Making Adjustments
by geminigrrl
Summary: Slightly AU. Takes place after “Superman Returns.” Clark tries to readjust his life among “uncomfortable” changes around him. Will he succeed or will he need help? ClarkOC.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Don't own anything except what I've obviously created. Money? Ha! I wish!

**Summary:** Slightly AU. Takes place during "Superman Returns." Clark tries to re-adjust his life among "uncomfortable" changes around him. Will he succeed or will he need help? Clark/OC.

**Chapter 1**

Exhausted.

At the moment, that was the only word that Clark Kent could pull from his tired brain to describe his first week back after a five year absence. He'd forgotten how bad situations constantly popped up, which in turn, meant several "costume changes" for him. If he hadn't been Kryptonian, he was sure the constant flying, the constant physical aspects of his responsibilities would have killed him by now.

"It still could," Clark muttered to himself as he lugged his two suitcases and two smaller boxes with him down the hall of his new apartment building. He'd have to remember to thank Jimmy for the heads up on an apartment becoming available in his building. It was a perfect location, not too far from The Daily Planet and had several balconies and exits "hidden" from view. Perfect for whenever Superman needed to make an appearance.

Returning to his life after five very long years was becoming easier and easier to adjust to as the days went by, but that didn't mean there wasn't _some_ kind of adjustment. As clichéd as it sounded, the world had changed in his absence, something he knew was inevitable, but still leaving him with the sense of displacement. Conceitedness might have inclined him to believe that a changed world without Superman was impossible, but that was never an option for his feelings. No, this changed world just made him feel incredibly…lost.

Take, for example, the hustle and bustle at The Daily Planet. Despite his seniority when he, as Clark Kent, had left, his return had brought some displeasure among his co-workers, most of them new faces. The fact that he, after such a long absence, was unofficially reinstated as one of Perry White's senior reporters (despite the self-obvious talent of some of the newbie reporters) was not exactly endearing him to said co-workers.

Technology had advanced by leaps and bounds, as well as society's priorities and responsibilities towards themselves, others and the world as a whole. While some of those changes had been welcomed and appreciated, others were simply…baffling.

The change in Lois Lane's life had been just as baffling to Clark, although if he did think long and hard about it, he supposed it was inevitable. The fact that Lois Lane- stubborn, work-driven, rabid reporter, Lois Lane- was a mother still continued to baffle Clark. It wasn't that he thought Lois incapable of being a mother and experiencing all of the emotions and responsibilities that went with it; no, it was just an entirely different picture from the Lois he had left five years ago.

She had a son. And a fiancée. Who, by the appearance to all and sundry, was a very loving, caring and wonderful man, whom both Lois and Jason adored and needed. Richard White was the one Lois went to for comfort, the one to share her smiles with, the one who lay next to her during the cool nights. He was the one Lois was with and loved.

It was the truth, but it hurt Clark deeper and more painful than any amount of Kryptonite could.

Sighing, Clark broke from his thoughts and shifted his attention to the matter now at hand. He was moving into a new apartment; thoughts of Lois Lane and her unrequited love would just have to wait.

With a suitcase under one arm and the other being clutched in the same hand, while precariously balancing the two boxes in the other arm, Clark made his way to the very end of the hall. He stopped at the last door on his right, then dropped the suitcases to the floor. Keeping his boxes balanced, he fished around his pockets for the newly received keys to his apartment.

"Can I help you with that?" a soft voice asked from behind him.

Having been so preoccupied in finding his keys and the thought that he was alone, Clark was immediately startled. The boxes unceremoniously fell to the ground with a loud crash, even as their owner spun around.

A young woman stood there, nervously biting her bottom lip as her eyes slightly scrunched in guilt. She was a good foot or so shorter than he was, but her fidgeting made her seem smaller. "I'm sorry," she quickly apologized, "I didn't mean to scare you."

Clark immediately felt embarrassed; he didn't know if it was because he'd been startled or that he'd been caught off-guard. "I thought I was alone," he bumbled by way of explanation.

The young woman slightly grinned. "I'll have to slam my door louder next time," she joked, then blushed slightly when Clark grinned in return. She self-conciously tucked a strand of her long, dark hair behind her ear, then held out her hand. "I'm Vanessa Bryant," she introduced, "But, most people call me Van. I live right across the hall." She slightly nodded her head behind her.

Clark took her slender hand and gave it a firm squeeze. "Clark Kent," he replied, "Just moved in today."

"Nice to meet you, Clark," Van said, somewhat shyly. Her eyes locked with his, startled at the blueness of their color. Her head tilted slightly to one side, as if in deep thought.

Clark regarded her with interest. Not many people had stopped and met his gaze, but then again, he'd never really given them the chance. As part of his Clark Kent persona, it was essential that no one stop and notice him. He knew that someday the simplicity of his disguise behind a pair of glasses and a messy side comb would outgrow its usefulness, but at the moment, it was what worked for him. Yet here, Van had paused and looked at him, with such speed that he'd never seen it coming.

After what seemed like a very long moment of the two silently staring at one another –Clark with interest , Van with curiosity- Clark finally cleared his throat. He watched in amusement as Van started at the sound, then blushed a deep red. "Sorry," she mumbled embarrassedly, "I don't normally stare at complete strangers."

Clark smiled kindly at her. "Well, we're really not strangers anymore," he told her, "We've introduced ourselves and we live right across the hall from one another. You could call us…oh, I don't know….neighbors, perhaps?"

Van blushed deeper. "You're teasing me," she said, slightly grinning.

"Me? Never!" Clark replied, shaking his head, "Lois wouldn't-" He abruptly stopped. Would he ever stop thinking about Lois Lane?

Sensing the awkwardness of his unfinished sentence, Van swooped down upon his scattered belongings. "Here, let me help you," she offered, turning one of the boxes right side up. She quickly scooped up some wayward books and placed them inside.

Clark watched as she worked fast. "You don't have to do that," he said, bending down and began to pick things up.

She stopped for a moment and looked at him. "It's the least I can do," she replied, shrugging slightly. She reached for what looked like a bookend, but found her hand suddenly warmly enveloped by Clark's.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you about the dangers of strangers?" he asked, jokingly. He'd lived in Metropolis for many years before leaving for his outer space "road trip home" but in all that time he'd never encounter such friendliness as he did now.

"We're neighbors, not strangers, remember?" she shot back, grinning.

Clark chuckled. "Touché," he murmured. The next few moments were worked in silence as they piled his things back into the boxes. When all was done, Clark stood first, then helped his new neighbor to her feet. "I thank you, Miss Bryant," he said, holding her hand a beat longer, then released it with a slight bow.

"It was my pleasure, Mr. Kent," she replied, giggling at his antics, "I'm sure I'll see you around."

Clark grinned as she turned and walked down the hall to the elevators. "I'm always around," he called after her with a wave, which she returned. His eyes followed her until she disappeared into the waiting elevator, then quickly looked away as the doors closed.

"What was that all about?" he murmured to himself, somewhat confused. Had he actually been…flirting with his new neighbor? Having to lead a double life had always inclined his bumbling idiot farce to surface by default. Yet, just now, the confidence he felt as Superman had blazed right through his encounter with Van. He couldn't recall that ever happening before.

Clark inserted his key into the lock and turned it, smiling slightly at the soft click of the door being unlocked. His brain was definitely tired; he was imagining flirting with his neighbor as a result!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Sorry it took so long to update. Life happened in a big way and…well, I'm sure you all know how that goes. ;-) Also, I wanted to add that this story takes place _after_ Superman Returns, despite the fact that it says it takes place _during_. Hopefully, I'll get around to changing that in the summary. Anyway, enjoy!

**Chapter 2**

Clark awoke the next morning well before the rising sun. Like many nights before he'd done his usual "patrol" around the world, helping those in need. It still surprised him how far the world had fallen from the level of humanity it once held; was there no end to the violence and crime perpetuated in the very acts of individuals who deemed themselves "above the law"?

The obvious answer was no. The realization that he could still be Superman fifty, maybe a hundred years from now, and that the violence and crime would be continued by new generations, baffled him. Maybe he was biased, but what was the point of continuing such a legacy? Evil might continue, but so would all things good in life. And, as the old cliché goes, "Good always triumphs evil." Granted it might take awhile, but the outcome was easily foretold.

Stepping out of his invigorating shower, Clark hurriedly dried himself, then wrapped his towel around his lean body. He ran one long-fingered hand through his hair, studying his reflection in the bathroom mirror. His dark hair flopped off to the side of his face, almost framing his eyes, which caused him to grin. "Almost time for a trim," he murmured to himself, then shrugged. He would have to return to Smallville to ask his mother for the titanium steel blade scissors she'd obtained for such a task. Not many people knew that his invulnerability also covered his hair.

Once his daily personal hygiene routine was taken care off, Clark made his way back into his bedroom and opened up his closet. An array of brown suits greeted him, each one a different shade of earth tone. Pausing for a moment, Clark chose a suit, then grabbed a nearby white shirt and coordinating tie. He'd been meaning to incorporate more color into his wardrobe, but being Superman never really allowed him the luxury of clothes shopping.

And, neither would Perry at The Daily Planet if he didn't get to work soon. Clark noticed this as he ate his breakfast and happened to glance at the digital clock on his stove. _Where did the time go? _He wondered, as he zipped around the kitchen putting his dishes away and shrugging on his coat. He grabbed everything he needed from the front hall table, then quickly exited his apartment.

He'd just finished locking the apartment door when his eyes fell on the one right across the hall. He paused for a moment, staring at the shiny, silver knob, almost as if willing its occupant to turn it. When no such thing happened, Clark somewhat nervously glanced around the empty hallway, then focused his eyes so intently on the door that it was a mere second before everything turned translucent and the front hall of Van Bryant's apartment greeted him.

The sight of a family picture startled Clark, causing him to blink his eyes; everything turned solid once more. _Why did I do that? _He wondered, somewhat ashamed at his lack of privacy for his neighbor. What had he been expecting from it anyway?

Clark shook his head and sighed. What was the matter with him anyway? Another glance at his watch told him he would have to wonder about it some other time. He was going to be late.

He made it downstairs in record time (the elevator had taken too long, so the stairs was his only other option) and out onto the busy sidewalk. People of all types crowded the sidewalk, rushing around like busy ants in a colony. Clark expertly dodged his way through the sea of bodies, and only a few minutes later did he find himself in front of the huge skyscraper of The Daily Planet.

The ride up in the elevator went smoothly, albeit, crowded, but Clark didn't mind. Every single person present was engrossed in their own thoughts or a copy of the morning edition newspaper, which left Clark some time for himself. It was something he looked forward to and treasured, as his double life did not leave him much "me time."

With a slight lurch, the elevator stopped and announced its arrival with a chirpy _ding! _The doors slid open, signaling everyone into motion. Newspapers were closed, folded and tucked away, while briefcases and purses were clutched tighter as the rush to exit was made. Clark waited in his usual space in the back corner of the elevator until every other occupant had left, then leisurely strolled out.

What greeted him was an immediate "attack" on the senses, regardless of his second identity as Superman. The bullpen of The Daily Planet was a flurry of movement, cluttered with people, desks and various other objects. Like bees working in an active hive, people scurried here and there, talking as they went, some shouting to others across the room. Phones rang, keyboards clicked, coffee was consumed by the second, people worked. The day had begun long before Clark had arrived.

"Hey, Clark!" The familiar voice of Jimmy Olsen suddenly caught his attention, pulling him out of his quiet observation. The young photographer was headed towards him, his camera slung around his neck and his friendly, almost goofy-like smile on his face.

Clark returned it with a goofy smile of his own. "Hi, Jimmy!" he greeted, stepping forward, pushing up his thick glasses back onto the bridge of his nose as he did so.

Jimmy laughed. "You really need to invest in some contacts, Clark," he told him, good-naturedly, "You'll miss a good story because you were too busy fixing your glasses!"

Clark grinned. "I'll keep it in mind," he replied, then shrugged. _Or not!_ He thought to himself, silently chuckling. He told Jimmy to have a good day, then made his way to his desk.

The cramped space of his desk greeted him, as well as the familiar stack of papers and files mixed in with the few pictures of his parents and friends that crowded the top. He hung up his coat, then unceremoniously sat down on his swivel chair, only to jump up again when Lois Lane appeared next to him.

"Does 'proverbial' have an 'f' or a 'v'?" she asked, a look of frustration gracing her face.

Clark stared at her, at a loss for words as usual. What was it about her that made him forget how to speak or stand up straight? Was it the way her eyes always shone brightly, as she worked furiously on her latest assignment, or the way her head tilted thoughtfully when she talked to herself and to others, allowing her long, dark hair to spill over her shoulders? Or maybe it was-

"Clark?" Lois interrupted his thoughts, "Are you here yet?" She smiled teasingly at him, her eyes questioning.

He immediately blushed. "Sorry, Lois," he answered, then adjusted his glasses for good measure.

Lois softly laughed. "A lot on your mind?" she asked.

_You don't know the half of it!_ He thought silently. He shrugged. "You could say that," he replied. He cleared his throat, then asked, "What was the question again?"

Lois sighed. "Spelling of 'proverbial,'" she answered, "An 'f' or a 'v'?" She absent-mindedly shook the piece of paper in her right hand.

Clark grinned. "Spell-checker not working?" he teased, motioning over to her computer that sat amid towers of files.

She rolled her eyes. "Maybe," she shot back. It amazed her that people never got tired of teasing her about her lack of spelling skills.

"Well, I could take a-" Clark began, but was pleasantly interrupted.

"Clark?" A somewhat familiar, soft voice came from behind him. It sounded so out of place among the hustle and bustle of the bullpen.

Clark immediately turned and found himself looking at the top of Van Bryant's head. His eyes found hers, causing his lips to curve into a smile. "Van?" he asked, clearly surprised.

Van blushed. "Sorry to interrupt," she said, her eyes flickering to Lois, who was now watching them with keen interest, "I saw you from across the way and thought I'd say hello."

"Oh, yeah. Great!" Clark stammered, flustered, "Uh, hello. Hi!" He added enthusiastically, then immediately felt foolish.

Lois suppressed a giggle. She hadn't thought it possible for Smallville to be any goofier than he normally was, but she was obviously wrong. "Hi, I'm Lois Lane," she introduced, extending her hand,

Van took it and firmly squeezed it. "Nice to meet you," she said, "I love your work." She smiled broadly. "I'm Vanessa Bryant."

"Thank you, Miss Bryant," Lois replied, smiling back, "I could say the same about your work."

At this, Van merely smiled, while Clark seemed confused, delighting Lois even further. "Work?" he questioned, glancing between the two women.

Van giggled. "Speaking of which," she began, "I better get back so you can, too." She shook Lois' hand again. "A pleasure meeting you, Miss Lane," she added.

"Likewise," Lois replied, waving.

"See you later, Clark," Van added, then lightly touched his shoulder before turning to leave.

It wasn't until she'd disappeared behind closing elevator doors that Clark asked Lois, "How do you know Van?"

His colleague rolled her eyes. "You're not a very rounded reporter now, are you, Clark?" she teased, somewhat exasperated at his ignorance. When he continued to look confused, Lois explained, "Vanessa Bryant is the daughter of William Bryant, president of the oldest and most respectable bank in Metropolis."

Realization dawned on Clark's face. "Her grandfather Theodore Bryant built Bryant Finance & Trust from the ground up," he said, somewhat in awe, "It's said he didn't have a penny to his before that."

"I knew there was hope for you yet, Smallville," Lois teased, then laughed at his surprised silence. She interestedly watched as he appeared to digest this information, a mixture of confusion, realization and surprise crossing his face. Lois rolled her eyes before grasping him by the shoulder and steering him towards her desk. "Now, about that spell-checker…" she added, laughing silently when he jerked out of his thoughts.


End file.
